


The Dream and the Discovery

by AlleyCatSunflower



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyCatSunflower/pseuds/AlleyCatSunflower
Summary: Ozpin doesn't exactly set much store by instinct, but sometimes… words fail him. So how exactly will he show Glynda what he thinks of her, when she asks? Mild spoilers for Ozpin's background. [Originally written during Volume 1.]





	The Dream and the Discovery

Ozpin may have summoned Glynda to his office to inform her of something very important and very personal, but that definitely did not mean he knew what he was going to say.

He was used to planning out every detail of what he would say or do before doing it. Ozpin had been told many a time by many a person that he lived far too much in his head. He had always responded that by doing so, he was able to keep more control over a situation and always have his wits about him. However, he had neglected to account for matters of the heart, which never failed to muddle his mind.

Even the fact that Glynda now stood before him—as he had requested, yet with a peculiar air of having intended to come regardless—was distraction enough.

Dreams were so easy. They allowed Ozpin to do and say whatever he wanted without taking into consideration Glynda's realistic response, or his own ineptitude with his heart. But this was reality, and as she stood, regarding him with a mixture of curiosity and concern—her golden hair, intermingled with a few silver strands here and there, haloed by the rays of setting sun—Ozpin was quite at a loss for words.

_I should have planned for this._

"Sir?" asked Glynda, stirring Ozpin out of his half-frantic musings. "Are you all right? You look… unwell." As she stepped forward, an involuntary breath sucked itself into Ozpin's lungs. A precious second or two ticked by before he remembered to so much as respond to her question, giving a hasty and unconvincing nod.

"Are you sure?" pressed Glynda, advancing further, and Ozpin backed up a step—accustomed to their proximity being dictated by his own terms and not hers. Frowning, Glynda took one more step forward in an almost experimental way, and when Ozpin again struggled to reset the distance between them, she stopped short with a strange mixture of amusement and worry.

There was another moment of silence, during which Ozpin's heart beat wildly alongside his racing mind, before Glynda sighed softly. "I don't understand. Why did you call me here?"

Ozpin almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He had summoned Glynda, and did not regret doing so, but he had done so on a whim… and now he had made himself look ridiculous, having nothing of importance to say to her.  _This is why I don't trust instinct. I don't use it enough for it to be of value for me._

Glynda only waited patiently, hands behind her back, for some time before an idea struck Ozpin like lightning. Taking one more breath to center himself, he spoke, swallowing his elevated heartbeat in an effort to keep it out of his voice. "I'm sorry. I was just… reconsidering the rule about no staff relationships, and thought I should get your input."

Long before Ozpin's black hair had turned to silver, he had decreed that no two staff were to maintain romantic relationships. His reasoning at the time had been 'you'll have enough trouble keeping the coed teams under control without causing problems of your own'. However, in his hubris—which he had worked to overcome for centuries—he had never imagined that he himself would fall prey to the charms of a coworker.

"Oh, is that all?" asked Glynda, sounding somewhere between surprised and disbelieving. "From the way you were acting, I thought you were displeased with my performance, and that I should pack my bags." She gave him a relieved yet mischievous smile, one rarely bestowed, and the corner of Ozpin's mouth twitched automatically in response.

"I could never dismiss you," he said, carefully controlled color rising slightly without his permission. "But that is really beside the point. What do you think I should do?" Unable to stand still any longer, he took up pacing across the room, mind occupied more on where to go from here.  _Speaking to hundreds of students is no problem for you, so let's rearrange your priorities a little, Ozpin._

"It depends on your reasoning," said Glynda, glancing at him, and Ozpin found her warm green gaze practically scorching. His blush, which he had worked so hard to bring down, rose again, and he hoped he was far enough away from her that she could not see it. "Others have suggested alterations to this rule, but you've said there is no need to fix a rule that isn't broken. However, I notice that for all your talk, you aren't really enforcing it very much."

Ozpin nodded distractedly, turning to look at his bookshelf as if perusing its contents, but his mind was racing. " _B_ _ecause_ I'm not enforcing it and nor do I have the resources to do so, it may as well not be a rule. That's all."

Glynda raised an eyebrow, and Ozpin turned away from her, unable to look at her any longer. It seemed that the images from a dream he'd had last night, the first about her he had remembered, carried too easily into waking life. Even the Ozpin his staff and students knew, focused and cool, sometimes lost his renowned concentration when such temptation was brought before him.

"Is that really all?" asked Glynda, her eyes sparkling. Evidently, Ozpin's response had not been as professional as was expected of him. "That's never posed much of a problem for you before. You don't just go back on a rule once it's made, even if it's an old rule. So tell me, what's the real reason?"

She moved forward to stand before him, cornering him between his bookshelf and his window, and Ozpin shifted in place—silently wishing she were either farther away from him or pressed against him. The intrusive thought scattered his wits, and he forces his mind back to the subject at hand. "What do you want me to say?" he protested, before he could stop himself. He sounded more like one of his whiny students than the headmaster, and he knew it.

Glynda blinked a few times at his uncharacteristic outburst, but said nothing, and Ozpin cleared his throat. "I apologize," he amended, glancing at the floor in an effort not to look at Glynda, whose expression had taken a turn for the amused. "I only meant that…" He trailed off, realizing that he had as good as admitted that he just needed an excuse.  _Damn it._ Today was clearly one of his off days. Who knew a mere dream could change him this much?

Glynda's smile, visible even in his peripheral vision, unnerved Ozpin. She rarely smiled; the most frequent incidents seemed to be either out of triumph, like now, or relief. "So… who is it?"

Ozpin could have sworn that Glynda registered the jump in his heartbeat. This was the moment of truth. She had asked directly for whose sake he would break such a hallowed rule, among the first he had implemented upon becoming Headmaster. Yet he could not bring himself to respond.

"The only time you would even consider altering rules are if you're breaking them," continued Glynda, peering more closely at him. "In those cases, you change the rules ever so slightly. For example, you started allowing food in the offices because you love your cookies so much."

Ozpin was about to admit his guilt when a memory drifted back to him from not too long ago. "You're not so innocent yourself," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "You ate  _all_ my gingersnaps once upon a time."

"Don't change the subject!" exclaimed Glynda, color heightening slightly, and Ozpin knew she was thinking of losing half her cookie down her shirt. Ozpin found himself unable to suppress a smile, which seemed to soften her expression slightly. "Fine," she said, glancing away from him. "If you don't want to say for whom you're breaking your rule, I'm not exactly in a position to ask questions. I'm sorry for intruding on your privacy."

Before Ozpin could say he forgave her, Glynda—evidently assuming that staying in her only superior's office after possibly insulting him would be unwise—backed up and started walking away.

"Wait."

The word seemed to speak itself; only as Ozpin caught Glynda's wrist did he realize he must have said it. She gasped as she turned to face him, wand springing automatically into her hand, and Ozpin eyed it nervously. His face had had more encounters with the crop end of that wand (mostly accidental) than he cared to think about. "I can't  _tell_ you for whom I'm breaking the rule," Ozpin began, before realizing that the way he had placed the emphasis was clue enough.

Glynda's frown deepened once, spasmodically, before her eyes widened and her blush heightening. She breathed something to herself, and Ozpin—realizing he still held her wrist—let go abruptly. Glynda rubbed it, lost in thought, before giving a light sigh and a brief yet brilliant smile. "So show me," she murmured. "But make it good."

Almost a minute of fierce debate and futile planning passed before Ozpin resolved to give his instincts one final chance. He stepped forward, heart beating intensely enough to be painful, and touched Glynda's cheek softly. She jumped, closed eyes flying open, but rested her bare hand on his gloved one a moment later, looking into his eyes with encouragement and challenge distributed evenly among her own.

And Ozpin knew then what he must do, as dictated by his heart and her gaze.

He leaned forward tentatively, gently drawing her mouth up to his when he met no resistance: their lips met tenderly. No sooner had an infinitesimal distance separated their mouths than Glynda's wand clattered to the ground and she practically threw her arms around him, closing the gap once more to take the lead.

Ozpin refused to let her. He had done this dance before, many a time, and his body remembered lifetimes gone by better than his mind ever could. He trailed a single gloved finger up and down Glynda's spine, relishing the shiver that he could feel running through her. Valuing for the first time physical intimacy over mental, he closed his eyes lazily, allowing the sense of touch to take priority.

By the time they finally broke apart, Ozpin's hands had found their way to Glynda's waist, and each of them was breathing hard. Seconds or minutes might have passed since their contest of sorts began. Unable to look her in the eye as his mind regained control, Ozpin cleared his throat slightly, no words presenting themselves to seal whatever deal he knew had just been struck.

"And to think that  _I'm_  the one to disprove the rumor," murmured Glynda, half to herself, and gave him a lopsided smile before turning and sashaying towards the door.

Ozpin blinked, resenting the turn his thoughts took once more, and would have been content to watch her walk away… were it not for his curiosity. "What rumor?" he called after her.

Glynda turned back and gave him an oddly girlish giggle, eyes twinkling. Ozpin couldn't suppress a smile in return, relieved that their dynamic had not changed too much, though a jolt of lightning (amusement and annoyance intertwined) shot through him at Glynda's reply:

"Sir, anyone with as much natural passion as yourself could never—as many of the staff believe—be a virgin."


End file.
